


Talking

by rubberglue



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 21:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1580141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberglue/pseuds/rubberglue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus is there for Joan after 2x22.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Talking

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't quite get my h/c for Joan in the aftermath of 2x22 so I wrote it myself.

_British government. Liar. Spy. Unfortunate. Sorry._

Downstairs, she can hear the two brothers quarreling. Again. Even with their hushed voices, the tension is palpable, seeping through the floorboards, into her room, into her mind. She doesn't need this right now. They don't have the right to do this to her. 

Her phone blinks in the darkened room, reminding her of messages she doesn't want to read. She grabs it, ignoring the other messages, and punches in a number. It takes a while more before she drags herself out of bed. 

“Where are you –“ 

Mycroft takes a step towards her but she, as calmly as possible, walks out of the door, letting it swing shut firmly behind her. She's some distance away when she hears the door open and the word 'Watson!' hangs in the air. 

She doesn't turn around. 

Halfway down the street, it hits her. It's a terrible idea. At least in the brownstone, she is safe physically. Here, there are too many strange noises, too many unfamiliar faces. 

"Hey." 

She almost jumps out of her skin. 

"It's me. Marcus. Hey." He stands a distance away, hands open as he smiles tentatively at her. 

One hand on her chest, trying to calm her racing heart. she attempts a returning smile. "Why are you here?" 

"I thought you could use some company walking over. Plus the paperwork was driving me nuts." 

She wants to say that she's fine, that she could have gotten to the station on her own but she's grateful that he came. So she just nods at his words. It's enough and Marcus falls into step with her. For some distance, they walk in silence. 

Her phone interrupts the comfortable rhythm. Digging it out of her pocket, she stabs at it before dropping back in. 

Marcus raises an eyebrow. She shrugs. 

"It's Sherlock," Marcus says. There's no judgment, no question in his statement and Joan's grateful. 

"He wants to know where I'm going." 

"Oh," says Marcus, again in that casual tone. And they continue to walk in silence. 

The station is exactly the way she remembers it, and it's strange. When she returned, the brownstone wasn't the same, the way she didn't feel the same. But in the station, it's like nothing happened since the last time she was there. 

She doesn't know quite how to feel about it. 

"Come on," Marcus says quietly. "I've put the files in that empty office." 

There are a pile of files on the table and Joan reaches for one of them. A murder last night. It's meant to take her mind off things. But the words swim in front of her and her mind persists in bringing up memories she wants to forget. Her hands shake and she can feel her heart start to race. 

"Coffee?" Marcus slides a mug in front of her. "And a bagel. It's kinda old though but it doesn't look mouldy." 

Joan blinks then focuses on Marcus. He's still wearing that tentative smile. "Thank you." 

"We don't have to do this, you know. We could talk." He takes the chair next to hers and stretches out his legs. 

"Talk." Joan repeats. Everyone wants her to talk. 

"Or not talk. It's up to you." She says nothing and Marcus continues. "When I got shot, everyone wanted to talk. About my experience, about what would happen next. Everything." As he speaks, he rubs his chest absently. "But it helped, you know? To talk to someone. Maybe not me. But someone." 

She closes her eyes. "He died. I did all I could, and he still died." 

A hand closes around hers and squeezes gently.


End file.
